2023 – Year of the Rail Strike. A hotly anticipated joy ride on the newly opened Elizabeth Line thwarted. Max Forbes and I concocted an alternative travel plan, whose final leggy leg was a 3-mile walk from Elm Park to the outskirts of Romford along the banks of the River Rom.

There was a brief pause en route to remember Stokemoores Pie and Mash, once of Elm Park Avenue. We were there in 2016.

We ambulated into the pedestrian precinct of South Street, a retail haven full of your usual high street corporates, emerging onto Market Place. The town’s modernisers may well have had the notion of a Viennese piazza, but the motley assortment of gazebos and tarpaulins that comprises Romford Market belongs to a traditional fixture dating back to 1247.

Both the shops featured in the Club’s first Romford Double of March 2015 have since relocated. McDowell’s, once occupant of a large and quirky shop at the unfashionable end of the High Street, is now housed on the ground floor of Romford Shopping Hall – an indoor market setting for dozens of small businesses; a place to sell gold and riffle through the 45’s.

At the back of the hall under ginormous ventilation ducts is a modest ‘food court’. McDowells stakes its portion of retail turf with the Union flag. The six combatants inserted themselves into the central feeding pod: Terry Moore, Andy Townsend, Colin Price, Statto and Max Forbes seen here. Normal tables and chairs are also available.

Pricey had long been pushing for this updated double-header in his sphere of expertise – East London and inner Essex.

Terry Moore’s journey from nearby Harold Hill should have been a breeze, but the man with the collapsible white stick is more than equal to the most troublesome transport equation.

Saunders – last seen in February 2020 – kept the cruets in tipping distance.

Goldwater chose tea to accompany the full McDowells. Note the scoops of mash.

Being unable to reach out and touch a tiled wall was mildly discombobulative – it felt like I was part of an ‘installation’.

Some personal touches and a framed picture of Sir Bobby helped to keep it real.

‘Diversification and chips’ was a term I coined long years ago. In this case, the menu has been expanded to include ham, eggs and chips [a personal favourite], bacon rolls, sausage rolls and saveloy and chips – all deliciously non-scoring in this league. The February special for OAP’s was pie, mash and tea for £3.99 which suited Colin Price’s pocket book.

Com-pie-triots.

These alumni of UOK cleaned crockery like the hungry students of their youth on the Canterbury campus. UOK?

On the food court McDowells is in head-to-head competition with an adjacent caff which seemed to be winning more bums on seats this particular Saturday lunchtime. Interestingly, this latter was ‘glassed in’. But if you’re intent upon tasty, traditional pie and mash, the McDowell’s Zone is your go-to. My only minor gripe was the pies weren’t steaming.

Doubling back across the market place, we regained South Street where Robins, formerly housed in a small corner of the Quadrant Arcade, now occupies sparkling new retail premises, kitted out in the familiar black and white livery.

They’ve really gone to town with the brand on this new one, which is almost a twin of the Chelmsford branch.

Food, fixtures and fittings failed to disappoint in an unflaggingly consistent Robins experience.

It is for this reason that we’ve often placed Robins second in a double header – the fare is very much a known quantity for the experienced piegilist.

A modest one-and-one. The shop was buzzing, the pies were hot, the presentation faultless.

The college youths at one marble top, the oldies at another.

Crust-and-custard dessert options, as you’d expect.

Robins ‘famous’ pie and mash – rightly so.

Most tiled pie and mash shop? Drop us a line if you know the answer. Subject header: I’m a tile totaller.

[Far right] The Robins ledge of legends.

Romford United.

There was a mouthwatering selection of local music at the Crown, but the Moon and Stars Wetherspoon was where the team’s overtaxed tastebuds were hosed down and rinsed off.

Romford’s got it all.

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